


Drink Me, Alice

by tangerine (arte)



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal (TV) RPF
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s02e12 Tome-wan, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Gen, M/M, Mind Palace Totally Works This Way, what am I writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arte/pseuds/tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hugh and Mads meet Will and Hannibal. Yes, we're really doing that actors meeting their characters thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who want Chinese translation, you can check murder wives's work：http://shifanglianyu.lofter.com/post/1d0e490d_95d49e7

By all means, Mads and Hugh should've been unconscious by now. They had been awake for more than twenty hours, three of which were spent trying to convey gut wrenching grief and betrayal. Unfortunately, while their bodies were dead tired, their minds were wide awake, too high strung to be put to sleep. Who knew watching someone's throat being cut 27 times in a row - even though it was fake - would cause adrenaline to spike?

"Drinks?" Hugh offered as they staggered out of the set. 

"Yeah," Mads said. "Let's go to my room. Janice gave me a bottle of her special brew. Wanted me to sample it so she could decide whether to bring it to the wrap up party."

"What, really? How come only you got that sample?"

"I don't know, but could it be that the show is named after my character?" 

"Please. Without Will, all Hannibal does is making never ending cannibal puns."

"Yes, but without Hannibal, Janice won't be making all that wonderful people food."

Hugh snorted. "You know, I heard some people wondering what Gordon Ramsay would say about Hannibal's cooking."

Mads laughed. "Oh, Bryan would love it."

"Yeah, can you imagine?" Hugh cleared his throat. "Mr. Ramsay, I'd love to have you on our serial killer cooking show."

"Would love to hear your opinion about how uncooked this lung is."

They bursted into uncontrolled giggling, everything sounding hilarious in their sleep deprived state. They did zip up in the cab though, since they didn't want to get into trouble. If taking pictures of a carpet in an airport was good enough to warrant an arrest, morbid cannibalistic jokes could result in worse. Hugh was sure that there was still some dried fake blood under his fingernails. 

Luckily, they managed to arrive at the hotel without any incident. Mads brought out a black bottle from the fridge along with two glasses. 

"So what's this, whiskey, scotch, beer?"

"You know I only drink beer."

"Beer isn't green and red."

"Nothing is green and red."

"Yet here we are," Hugh said, squinting suspiciously at the swirling mess of colors in his glass. "You sure Janice wasn't trying to poison you?" 

"That'd be poetic," Mads mused, taking a cautious whiff of the drink. He raised his brow. It smelled like beer. "Everyone but Hannibal is dead or dying in the show, and everyone but him is alive outside of the show."

"Then for the sake of poetics, you should be the only one drinking this."

"Then you'd be left to deal with upset people."

Hugh swiveled the glass in his hand, trying to make the drink settle into less unsettling color and failing.

"We shouldn't drink this."

"Absolutely."

Hugh drummed his fingers on the table. "On the count of three?"

Mads shrugged. Hugh nodded.

"One, two-"

Hugh knocked back a drink, watching Mads doing the same. He licked his lips. To his surprise, it tasted normal, like beer. Maybe a hint of cider-

Hugh was sitting in Hannibal's office. 

"The fuck," he said, never having experienced a literal _cut to next scene_ in real life. 

In front of him, Mads was sporting a similarly befuddled expression.

There was a long stretch of silence as each waited for the other person to explain this bullshit somehow.

"I really don't want to ask," Mads said slowly, each syllable being dragged like an unwilling horse. "But weren't we in the hotel a moment ago?"

"I guess?" Hugh blinked and rubbed his eyes. Nothing changed. He didn't feel high, feverish, or even plain hungover. What the hell. "Maybe we blacked out and dragged ourselves back to the set?"

Mads gave him an incredibly skeptical look. "Yes, I can see ourselves bypassing all the securities while intoxicated."

"I think you're sober enough if you can say intoxicated without slurring."

"Which would mean that we're both sober, right?"

Hugh hmmed. "For some reason, I don't like that option."

"Me neither," Mads said, calm in the way only a man in denial could get. "And I really don't like that we are surrounded by four walls."

"What?" Hugh asked, but soon realized what Mads was talking about. Four solid walls, no cameras or fake prints in sight. This wasn't the set. "Okay," he said, trying to gather his thought. "Maybe this is some- expensive, dedicated, and belated attempt at April Fool's."

"Or we could be dreaming."

"Whose dream are we in, then? Mine, yours?"

"Are you channelling your character?"

"Well, this certainly is the place for it," Hugh said, looking down at the green and red drink still clutched in his hand. Was he really dreaming? It didn't feel like it. The glass under his hands felt real enough. So was the scent of alcohol. He could definitely use some. Drink it again and get wasted, ignoring that this drink was possibly the cause of all this insanity.

"Come on," Mads said, jolting Hugh out of his thought. Mads was standing up, having put his own drink down on the small table beside him. "Let's get out of here. You got your phone with you? Mine's probably back in the hotel. I was charging it."

"Mine was in the jacket," Hugh said, thinking that him and Mads would probably not last a day in a survival show. "Which had been draped across the chair."

Mads looked up at the ceiling, probably asking the universe _why_. "We couldn't simply GPS our way out of here, could we." 

"Looks like."

"Do you think we could find a decent bar on foot?"

Hugh put his drink down and stood up with a sigh. "At this rate, I'd say that's a necessi- holy shit!"

He couldn't help swearing loudly. A man materialised out of thin air. And not just any man. The man had his face. Hugh turned to Mads, desperate eyes asking if Mads was also seeing two Hugh Dancys: One standing in front of the chair, the other one standing in front of the windows. 

"What the fuck," Mads said, which was answer enough. 

The doppelganger looked at them with odd mixture of emotions, bemused and bewildered with spike of worry and suspicion. "I didn't know it could do this," he said, more to himself than to the two mindfucked actors. His accent was clearly American. 

"Do what?" Mads asked, having regained his wit faster. Hugh was grateful for that, since his brain was being cluttered with an useless thing like, _Hey, wasn't there a story about how you were going to die if you met your doppelganger._

"Showing me things so far from reality," the doppelganger said, hand in his pocket, his stance deliberately relaxed. "Usually, even my imagination doesn't take things this far."

Mads' brows climed up. "You think we are the product of your imagination?"

"Or Hannibal's," the doppelganger admitted in a grudging voice. "We do share this part of the mind palace."

Things went click in Hugh's mind. The familiar grey coat, the black slacks, the American accent. They all pointed to the one conclusion that he didn't like at all. 

"No, no, no, you are not Will Graham," Hugh said. 

"Why?" the doppelganger asked, his voice starting low but climbing up high in the end. The intonation was perfect. It was exactly how Hugh would've done it if Bryan had come up with this kind of batshit scenario. 

"Because he's a character," Hugh said, emphasising each syllable carefully. He felt a little crazy. Why was this happening? It wasn't like he'd ever had problem with shedding off his character's skin, not enough to have a mental breakdown. "And, and even if you are, why would you look like me? It's not like I was the first one. By all means, you should look like William Peterson. Or Edward Norton."

"For the peace of our mind, I think we should go for the dream option," Mads said. He sounded a bit shaky, but also fascinated. His voice had a calming effect on Hugh. 

Hugh took a deep breath. "This is not the level of character study I'm comfortable with. Not even in my dream."

"Yeah, feels a bit schizophreniac, right?" Pause. "Still, I'd prefer to meet my version of Hannibal. I'm not ready to face Anthony Hopkins."

Hugh laughed. God, this bloody well better be a dream. "Me neither."

The doppelganger - oh bugger, might as well say it, _Will_ \- looked at them with funny expression. "Who are you?"

"You're asking that now?" Hugh asked. It was easier to speak now that he decided to fully commit to the dream scenario.

Will narrowed his eyes. "Forgive me if I wasn't too keen on accepting that my mind had become a stranger to me. Again."

Hugh and Mads looked at each other. Were they really going to do this? Mads shrugged. Apparently, they were doing this. 

Hugh turned to Will. "I'm Hugh Dancy. This is Mads Mikkelsen. We play Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter on the tv show Hannibal."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm Hugh Dancy. This is Mads Mikkelsen. We play Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter on a tv show Hannibal."

Will's brows arched high into the expression that Mads dubbed as _the gaming face_ ; eyes conveying distant curiosity, Hannibal like calmness diluting his horror and confusion until it was unrecognizable both to himself and the outsider. It was surreal. Mads glanced at Hugh and found his friend looking dazed. It wasn't everyday that one got to watch their own performaces like this.

"Better not tell Hannibal that there's a tv show named after him," Will responded after one frozen second, tone controlled to the point of being almost idle. "We wouldn't want to feed his ego any more, would we?"

Will didn't believe them, not any more than they did. 

"We're all operating under the assumption that this is a dream, then?" Mads observed, unsatisfied with his own conclusion, but unable to come up with a better answer. 

Will turned his vivisecting gaze toward him. His eyes lingered on Mads' ruffled hair, red Adidas jacket and blue running shoes. Mads could practically see Will juxtaposing the image of Hannibal Lecter with the picture Mads was presenting, finding them fitting together like puzzles pieces from two different sets. 

Will's expression was so similar to how Hugh portrayed it to be, yet not. Mads knew that this scrutiny won't melt into a goofy grin when _Cut!_ was yelled across the room. It made all the differences and made his hair stand on end.

"I'm not dismissing this," Will said, blinking slowly. "If that's what you're asking."

"Wait," Hugh said, shaking his head. "Didn't you say that this was your memory palace?"

"I did."

"Okay, if we go with that, then you can only be here if you're thinking of memory related to this office."

"What are you trying to get?"

"Hell if I know," Hugh said, faux cheerful. "I'm just trying to make some sense out of this. Even dream logic would do. How come me and Mads could've appeared here when neither you nor Hannibal was here? How does that work?"

Will frowned, inconsistencies also niggling at the back of his mind like a rotten teeth.

"You are- impressions. Intrusive images that I don't consciously understand yet."

"We're metaphors," Mads said, the sentence so absurd in his mouth that he felt beyond amused. After hours of bemoaning about metaphors with Hugh ( _"God, why can't I ever shut up? Fuck the imago." "Should've just gotten down to your knees and begged me to run with you." "Exactly. That's effective communication right there."_ ) this was where he ended up.

"We're the Swaggity Swag the Nigtmare Stag," Hugh deadpanned. He probably didn't know what else to do.

"That's achievement unlocked, I guess."

"Especially when we don't have any CGI team with us."

"Nor black masks."

Will looked back and forth between the two actors, jaws ticking in slight annoyance. "If your identities are supposed to be separate from me, why are you in my head?"

"Are we even in your head?" Hugh sighed at his own question. "Honestly, we just wanted a beer."

"Two beers," Mads quipped out of reflex.

Hugh nodded, gesturing at their glasses. "Two beers. Anyway, we just had one sip-"

"That's a beer?" Will cut in, staring at the green and red thing which now had the new edition of yellow where the two colors began to blur together. 

"Surprisingly enough, yes," said Mads.

"With a hint of cidar," Hugh added. "It was good."

Despite their glowing description, Will continued to look unimpressed with their decision to drink something that had the color of a poisonous frog. 

"If that's the source of your problem, shouldn't drinking it again send you back to wherever you came from?" 

"We were about to go out and explore," Mads confessed. "It didn't seem wise to drink it again when we didn't know what it would do."

"Chances are you'd have walked straight to the stream," Will said, grimacing like a doomed prophet. If he had intended his voice to be infused with wry humor, he missed the mark by miles. "My mind palace isn't really well developed."

"Better that than Hannibal's kitchen," Mads said, the scene of the day still lingering in his mind. He thought of gallons of fake blood that had been poured on the floor and amended, "Then again, that place is probably boarded shut now."

Will raised his brow. "Why would it be?"

"Eh?" Mads said, not having expected the question. Although he had acknowledged to himself that this didn't feel quite like a dream, he hadn't reached the level of thinking that this 'Will' existed outside of his interpretation of the show. Not enough to question him like this.

"You think he'd just be fine after that?" Hugh asked, similarly taken aback.

"I'm not really sure what you're talking about. Not that you were making a lot of sense to begin with."

Hugh licked his lips, recalculating. "What's the last thing you did with Hannibal?" 

Will narrowed his eyes. He looked suspicious, but didn't ask anything. Instead, he carefully answered, "We agreed that Jack was problem to be solved."

"After Hannibal burned the patient files?"

"Which files?"

Hugh and Mads looked at each other. Whatever this place was, the Will Graham before their eyes had yet to go through the finale. 

"Abigail is alive," that was the first thing Hugh blurted out after the revelation.


	3. Chapter 3

"Abigail is alive," that was the first thing Hugh blurted out after the revelation. 

"What?" Will said.

"Hannibal has her. She isn't dead. He cut her ear to stage her death."

Will looked struck. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but his voice didn't come. He swallowed, shaking his head minutely. 

It occurred to Hugh that Abigail might not have been the greatest conversation starter. However, he knew that it was what would matter the most to Will. This might be a dream, wild hallucination, or an actual mind palace for all he knew, but whatever it was, one of the most conflicted characters he'd ever played was right in front of him, and why not give the man the one information that he'd literally die to know?

With visible effort, Will pulled himself together, sweeping the myriad of emotion away to be dealt with in later date. "Where is she?" he asked hoarsely. 

"I don't know, we-" Hugh stopped, hearing the click of the door being opened. He found his focus being zoomed in to the slow turning of the doorknob, the other shoe he'd subconsciously been waiting to be dropped finally falling. 

Hannibal Lecter emerged in all his plaid suit and paisley tie glory, face cast in shadow.

Three options popped into Hugh's mind at this point: Greeting him with a jaunty little wave, pulling Mads by the elbow and jumping out of the window, and pretending to be another version of Will. He was very tempted to go for the last option since his black slacks and dark green shirt was already close to Will's wardrobe anyway, but there was no way Mads could pull off the same feat. 

Unless, by surprising twist of event, Hannibal turned out to be a closeted Adidas fan. 

At the sight of Hugh and Mads, Hannibal raised his brow, mouth subtly pulled down, the closest thing to _what the hell_ the man would allow. However, he didn't waste his attention on the two actors for long. 

"Feeling like company, Will?" Hannibal asked, tone conversational. 

God forbid anyone in this show actually freak out at seeing their doppelgangers. 

"Do I strike you as narcisstic, Dr. Lecter?" Will smirked. Well, he attempted to. What he managed was closer to grimace, brittle like a sharp edge of a broken glass.

"Not normally, no," Hannibal paused, assessing. "You look troubled." With a low voice he asked, "Is our new guests the source of your trouble, Will?" 

Will let out a huff of breath, curling his lips inward. He shook his head as if to press things down, but his sharp tongue escaped his restraint.

"You know what my source of trouble is."

"Your own capacity for violence," Hannibal returned mildly. 

Will smiled, unamused. "You won't take the credit?" 

"Would you like me to?"

"It's not like you to be modest." 

"You know I could never truly predict you, Will."

"Nor can I."

The charge built with each exchange. For Hannibal and Will, the world may as well have been reducrd to the two of them. 

If there were ever the prime time for Hugh and Mads to get out unnoticed, this would have been it. However, they were rooted on the spot, curiosity compelling them to watch, to compare how their own performance held up to these two men. 

"You've yet to introduce me to our new guests," Hannibal said, causing the actors to snap back into the present. 

Will's eyes flickered toward them. "I'm still trying to determine what they are." 

"I'd like to hear your theory." 

"I was thinking of sins of omission."

Hannibal stilled. "The lesser sin to lying."

"Where is she, Dr. Lecter?"

The room became quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"In one of my safe houses," Hannibal said. "She's well cared for."

"I'm afraid I don't believe your definition of care."

"There's a place made for Abigail and you, Will. We could leave, start our new life."

"No Jack, no FBI," Will said. "No Alana."

Hugh could see Will tipping, his ever present ambiguity clearing at the prospect of meeting his surrogate daughter again. 

"This is going to end badly."

Hugh didn't realise he had said this out loud until he became the center of attention.

"Your accent is different from Will's," Hannibal noted. Hugh could sense that his immunity was over. 

"Yes," Hugh said, for lack of a better answer. 

"You knew we were a little different," Mads said, taking the pressure off of Hugh. He started to cross the room, his red jacket bright. There was a brief second, when Mads had to walk right in front of Hannibal, that Hugh was afraid that it'd all come to a bloody end. 

Tension heightened, but nothing happened. Hugh found himself breathing easier with Mads by his side. 

"You're intruders," Hannibal said. 

"We're metaphors," Mads countered.

Hannibal tilted his head. "Then what do you represent?"

"Possibilities." 

"Of how it'd end badly."

"It doesn't have to."

"I have to confess," Hannibal said. "I'm curious as to what possibilities you have in mind."

 _Curious,_ now there was the word. Hugh braced himself. He couldn't slip any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats nervously*


	4. Chapter 4

Mads used to be the kind of a kid who picked up an impossible fight becaused he percieved himself to be bigger than he actually was. He didn't really grow out of that much. He sensed that Hugh was in trouble and jumped in, but unfortunately there wasn't a lot of planning behind his move. He literally had no idea what came out of his mouth. He'd like to think that he was in an unfair disadvantage since he was speaking in foreign language, but Lars would probably say that he didn't make a lot of sense in Danish either.

 _Okay, any idea how to act like metaphors?_ Hugh asked him silently when their eyes met.

 _I'm not even sure why I fucking said that,_ Mads tried to convey. 

"How do you see it ending?" Will asked, cutting through their soundless communication. As Mads knew Will was a wild card, he had to wonder what the guy was thinking he was doing. Hannibal was right there, listening. Was he self-sabotage or was he trying to smooth down the situation?

"I think it could go in any possible way," Hugh replied, as vague as it could get. Mads could almost hear Bryan saying, _Okay, you're not allowed to say about this and this and this. No spoilers, okay?_ behind those words. They hadn't even done any interview about the finale at this point. Why did they have to get the thoughest interviewees from the very start?

"You were thinking that the place I made for Abigail and Will would be inadequate," Hannibal offered pleasantly. He knew how to twist words into sharp blades.

"Is my opinion worth listening to?" Hugh asked, trying to buy time.

"Are you not manifestation of our subconsciousness? It'd be narrow not to listen."

Mads heard the implication loud and clear, and so did Hugh. Was it a good idea to suggest Hannibal that Will was subconsciously doubting him? Doubt would be a natural reaction to the fact that a guy hid your surrogate daughter's survival for months, but still.

Hugh's eyes flickered to Mads', a bit resigned. Mads gave a little nod.

"Would you believe us if we said that we are not some parts of you?" Mads said slowly.

"You're contradicting yourself now."

"We contain multitudes," Hugh quipped. He probably couldn't help it. "We're not really sure what's going on, either."

"What's your theory?" Hannibal asked.

Hugh didn't say anything. Mads guessed that it was his turn for a ridiculous introduction. 

"We're actors playing Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham on TV," Mads said. He wondered how much of Hannibal would be flattered that people wanted to see his story on screen, and how much offended that people were making a show like they actually understood him. Mads had an absurd urge to assure him that the show was very aesthetically pleasing, but shook it off. "We were confused because you appeared pretty solid to be fictional." 

"Reality is subjective," Hannibal said, tone contemplative.

It sounded like a clear invitation to respond in kind, but Mads was sick and tired of philosophical rejoinders to add anything on the table.

"You told Will about Abigail," Hannibal said with calculating eyes.

"Just that she's alive. It's not like we know much," Mads said. He focused on the fact that he was being entirely truthful. "The writers told us that Abigail would appear in the final episode. I acted on the premise that I was keeping her alive somewhere in previous episodes."

Mads wondered how long he could keep his poker face when Will said, " _You_ ," as if he was suddenly overcome with emotion. All of Hannibal's attention swiftly turned to Will. 

"You had the perfect opportunity to come clean when I told you I prayed to see her again," Will said softly, the outburst contained but still tittering on the edge. "Why didn't you?" 

Hannibal's face softened, the way only Will could get it to be. "You already know why." 

"You were being sentimental," Will said accusingly. "You know better than that."

"Do I?" 

Will squeezed his eyes shut. "Say I leave with you and her. What happens, then?" Will drew his hands up, stopping Hannibal from answering. "Tell me what would happen," he directed his command to Hugh and Mads and turned to Hannibal. "And you better have contigency plans for every possibility." 

And just like that, they were unceremoniously thrown back under the spot light again.

"You know you're being really unfair, right?" Hugh said, disbelieving. "Dragging other people into your argument?" 

"I believe you two could be the most objective about this," Will said, face frightfully calm. 

"We can't tell you what happens next. We're not the writers and we don't have the script."

"But you can see the whole picture. You knew about Abigail when I didn't."

Hugh studied Will's face wearily. "What's the worst thing you could do to us in this mind palace of yours?"

"Anything is possible," Hannibal replied, letting their imagination run wild. 

"And you expect us to give you our honest opinion."

"We'll know if you lie." Will's voice was gentle. 

Hannibal looked enraptured. No wonder, his Will was being wonderfully unpredictable. For Mads, it was maddening. He didn't know if Will was actually throwing them under the bus, or acting like he was in order to stop Hannibal from doing anything drastic by himself and make him want to wait and see what Will's next move would be. Will hadn't yet told Hannibal that Hugh and Mads knew more than they were letting on, but it looked like he could be swayed to the other side. The Will Graham effect was on full swing. 

"My biggest worry is about Abigail," Hugh replied after a moment of silence. Mads thought he was trying to slap Will back into shape before he could slip too much into the darker territory. 

"What about her?"

"Even if you successfully run away from the FBI, her survival would wholly depend on you two," Hugh took a deep breath. "What happens when you have a big fight? And you can't expect there won't be one. What is she supposed to in that situation?"

"She's free to do whatever she wants," Hannibal said, face perfectly straight. 

Hugh didn't look at him. Instead, he focused on Will. "You know how she survives." 

"She becomes what you want," Will said distantly. 

"She needs our protection," Hannibal said, touching Will's shoulders. "Jack Crawford won't stop until he put her into jail."

"He would," Mads said. He was coming to a rapid understanding as to why some fans looked at him like they wanted to say _Please don't eat me._ He forged on. He and Hugh had actually discussed about this before. "He would if she's the hero who exposed the truth about the Ripper. He saw how attached you were to Abigail. Make it look like she got away from her kidnapper. Jack won't care about her involvement in her father's crime if she identifies you as the Ripper."

Hannibal gave him a long look. "He would try to use her to catch us."

"Alana would put a stop to that," Mads countered. "She saw what Jack's obsession did to Will."

Hannibal turned to Will, awaiting his verdict.

"Hannibal," Will said, deliberately. This seemed to delight the good doctor. Will regarded Hannibal thoughtfully. "Is this going to be our first disagreement?"

"You want to leave her behind?" Hannibal asked.

"I want her to be free."

"She needs us."

"But she doesn't need to run away with us."

Eyes cast down, Hannibal seemed to consider this. "Her story would need to be convincing."

"The three of us could do it together," Will said. "Our family reunion."

"Yes," Hannibal said, looking pleased.

"Thank you," Will sighed. 

Mads didn't know what to feel about where their conversation was heading to. He thought he and Hugh did the best they could do under the insane situation they were in, but what was considered a win in romance story was very different from what was acceptable in real life. And unfortunately, at the moment, everything was feeling too real for his comfort.

 _Did we just convice an ex-FBI profiler to elope with a serial killer cannibal?_ He asked Hugh with his eyes. 

_At least it seems like Abigail would be okay?_ Hugh gave him a conflicted shrug. 

_Tell me this is all very fictional._

_When did we abandon our dream option?_

Oblivious to the little moral conflict happening right beside him, Hannibal stepped closer to Will. The expression on his face was close to worshipful as he cradled Will's right cheek with his hand. 

Will didn't shy away from Hannibal's eyes. He slowly raised his hand and softly grasped Hannibal's wrist, circling his thumb around the fluttering pulse. He turned his face and kissed the palm.

Quietly he spoke, "Freddie Lounds is alive."

Hannibal stilled. His expression was blank, too much the same as too little. His fingers in Will's hand twitched, but didn't properly turn into a fist.

"Why?" 

"The same reason you hid Abigail from me."

Hannibal swallowed. He still seemed too paralyzed to move. "She was a gift to you."

"As is my truth," Will said, gentleness of a slipping knife. "Can you forgive me?" 

"How much of it was a lie?"

"My feelings are real."

Hannibal exhaled, slowly sagging shoulders. "Your actions remain unpredictable to you too."

"It seems that way."

Expression still mostly blank, Hannibal carded his hand through Will's hair and kept brushing it back, as if the soothing motion would give him the answer. Will didn't move away. He closed his eyes and leaned in.

Hannibal sighed. "We would need to discuss further without our guest watching." 

But when he turned, no one was there on the other side of his office.

-

Mads jerked awake, feeling unbearably disoriented. He heard a low groan, and found Hugh peeling himself awake from the table. 

"Ugh, what happened?" Hugh asked, rubbing at his red forehead.

Mads opened his mouth, and winced as he felt a kink in his neck. "I think I had a really elaborate dream?"

"Did it involve Hannibal and Will by any chance?"

Mads looked at Hugh, eyes wide. In sync, they turned their head, and found their two glasses of beer sitting innocently on the table. The drink wasn't red and green in the morning light. It was yellow. A bit bright, but a normal enough color. 

"Wasn't that red and green last night?" Mads asked, confused.

"Yeah, I remember that," Hugh said, squinting his eyes. "You know, when you mix red and green together, you get yellow."

"Hmm," Mads said. "Time limit?"

"Maybe. Maybe red and green represented two different worlds," he paused. "Wait, then the beer should've started out as yellow-"

Mads groaned. "No offense, Hugh, but can we ban the damn metaphors and symbols for a while?"

"You bet we can. And let's not forget about that," Hugh said, jerking his thumb toward the drink. "That thing is banned from the party. Come to think of it, it shouldn't even exist."

"That'd be ideal, but we can't make Janice not make it."

"Yeah, there's that," Hugh sighed, raking his hand through his hair. Then he leaned in, giving Mads his most serious look. "You know, the next time I say we shouldn't drink something, we shouldn't drink something."

Mads nodded, also serious. "Absolutely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, I can't believe I actually finshed this. Hope you all enjoyed this story 'till the end! Let me know what you thought about it x)

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap, am I really writing this? Anyway, Brit/American picking is welcome since English is foreign language to me. Please feel free to share interesting interview tidbits about Hugh and Mads if you know them x)


End file.
